


As If By Design

by CarnivalMirai



Series: Post Fall Fics [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Caring Hannibal Lecter, Caring Will Graham, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fake first meetings, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal is surprised, Hannibal phones Will when he can't sleep, I swear this is better than it sounds sort of, M/M, Pet Names, Post TWOTL, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Roleplay, Sort Of, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham adopts another dog, this is v out of character but like idgaf, well technically a wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnivalMirai/pseuds/CarnivalMirai
Summary: Will cannot help it, not when he sees the lone wolf, looking so lost and lonely in the night. He’s just finished a long shift at the boatyard not far from where he and Hannibal have decided to settle in Ushuaia, Patagonia. She looks scared, tentative, and Will cannot help but feel pity and anguish for the wolf. Maybe… just maybe… Well… she’s still a canine, right? So technically a dog. And… it’s clearly a stray. Wolves travel in packs. With a sweet sigh, Will pulls the car up on the side of the road and slowly approaches the wolf.Or: Will adopts a stray wolf, Hannibal phones Will when he cannot sleep, and he discovers that Will is the "my husband" kind of guy.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Post Fall Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847071
Comments: 42
Kudos: 280





	As If By Design

Will cannot help it, not when he sees the lone wolf, looking so lost and lonely in the night. He’s just finished a long shift at the boatyard not far from where he and Hannibal have decided to settle in Ushuaia, Patagonia. She looks scared, tentative, and Will cannot help but feel pity and anguish for the wolf. Maybe… just maybe… Well… she’s still a canine, right? So technically a dog.  _ And…  _ it’s clearly a stray. Wolves travel in packs. With a sweet sigh, Will pulls the car up on the side of the road and slowly approaches the wolf. 

At first, he receives a threatening growl in return, but it doesn’t scare him away. He kneels down to the same height and slowly, he reaches out a hand to stroke her nose. “Hey.” He coos softly. “You seem lost.” The wolf growls again, fangs exposed and claws digging into the ground but still, Will has not been scared off. “It’s okay.” He reassures, stroking her nose softly. 

It takes the poor wolf a little while to soften up. By this point, Will has been kneeling on the hard concrete for at least ten minutes, stroking her nose and running his fingers through thick, long fur. Patience is a virtue, however, when it comes to strays, so Will sticks it out, and eventually, the wolf nuzzles back into his hand. “Yeah, that’s it… good girl…” Will smiles tenderly. He stands up, and as soon as he pulls away, the wolf instantly cranes her neck, as if to chase the touch of Will’s hand on her nose. 

Will takes a slow step away, gauging the wolf’s reactions. And she too, takes a slow step, following at Will’s heels. “I’m sure Hannibal won’t mind.” He chuckles. “Come on, let’s get you home for a bath, yeah?” 

***

Hannibal is waiting for Will to return home. He knows on days like these, Will will be home late, and he insists that Hannibal sleeps first. But Hannibal can’t. It’s difficult sleeping without Will, who had once suggested that Hannibal should phone him when he can’t sleep, with the intention of lulling him to sleep with just a story of his day. But Hannibal doesn’t like to disturb Will while he works, so he just stays awake and waits for him to return. 

Just as he’s lost in his thoughts, curled up on the sofa with their dogs in front of the fire, a text comes in. 

From: Will Graham 

Don’t be mad… but I picked up a stray. 

Hannibal’s brow creases and he tuts, but he can’t help the way his lip twitches up into a gentle smile at the thought of another dog. 

To: Will Graham

I suppose we have space. 

So Hannibal waits, eager to meet the new member of the family. He wits, and he waits, and he waits. Until eventually, he hears the lock on the door of their cabin turn, and the door pushes open. Getting off the sofa, he goes to greet Will, curious about their new family member. But when he sees a wolf at their door, a full blown, adult sized  _ wolf,  _ Hannibal is almost speechless. 

“Will, what the fuck.” Will snorts his amusement. 

“Wow.” He chuckles. “I’ve never heard you swear before.” Hannibal hasn’t even stepped aside to let them into the cabin yet, he’s still too busy staring at the wolf, sitting so obediently at Will’s feet. “May we… come in?” Will asks sheepishly, and it’s only then when Hannibal realises he’s still stood there. He moves aside, and with a croon of  _ ‘come on,’  _ Will leads their new pupper into their home. 

“Are you going to introduce us, then?” Hannibal asks as Will’s arms curl around his waist to kiss him. 

“No name yet.” Will smiles against his lips. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to name her.” Hannibal sighs contently as Will pulls away, and turns his attention to their new pet. He looks at those bright blue eyes, reaches out to run his fingers through thick brown-y silver fur, and a name instantly comes to mind. 

“Mischa.” Will couldn’t help but notice that fond look in Hannibal’s eyes, though there was still a glimmer of utter disbelief. 

“Mischa it is.”

———————————————————————

Will notices how quickly Mischa becomes attached to them-- specifically  _ Hannibal--  _ over the course of just two weeks. He often finds Hannibal on the sofa with a book in one hand, the other idly stroking her fur. And on this occasion, as Will comes in, he just catches Hannibal’s murmuring of “the fact that Will really brought home a wolf is just blasphemous,” and he cannot help but laugh.

“I couldn’t leave her on the road.” He says, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa, Winston and Buster immediately seating themselves at his feet. “Besides, when I tried to leave, she followed me.” Hannibal lets out a huff of amusement, closing his book to turn his full attention to their pack. “She likes you a lot.” 

“I’m struggling to imagine why that would be.” He mumbles. “But I must admit, I appreciate the company. Especially when you’re working late.” 

“Speaking of working late…” Will begins, “I’ll be working late for the next few nights - we’ve had a lot of boats come in, and not enough hands on deck.” He sees the way Hannibal deflates a little, but he reaches for his hand, sliding his hand under Hannibal’s palm. “The pay is twice the day rate and… we need that money.” Will points out. “We can’t rely on your trust fund forever.” He chides tiredly, and Hannibal manages to crack a smile. 

“What time should I expect you home? I can save dinner for you, or have it prepared just in time for your return.” Will shrugs. 

“Can’t say for sure yet. It depends on the workload.” Hannibal lets out a deflated sigh. He knows Will being at work means plenty more sleepless nights. “You know you can phone me, right? When you can’t sleep.” 

“I know.” Hannibal smiles. 

“You’ve never taken me up on that.” 

“I don’t like to disturb you while you work.” Hannibal quips with a frown. 

“You know I don’t mind.” Hannibal doesn’t protest this time. There’s a pregnant pause before Will speaks again. “I’m going to head off to bed. Coming?” He asks, standing up. Hannibal is about to stand up, but then he feels the weight of Mischa’s head on his knee, and remembers she's resting on his thigh. 

“In a little while.” He smiles. “She looks comfortable and I have no intentions of disturbing her just yet.” Will nods and comes over, standing over his husband. 

“Good night, Hannibal.” 

“Good night, Will.”

———————————————————————

When Will awakes before Hannibal the next morning, he takes a moment to just… stare. His hand cups Hannibal’s face and he brushes his fringe out of his eyes, admiring the serene look on his face as he rests. It’s an early start for Will and a late finish, meaning he won’t get to see Hannibal all day, so he takes this opportunity to admire the way the corners of Hannibal’s eyes wrinkle a little when he sleeps, the way his smile lines sink in when he smiles, the way his fringe falls in front of his eyes, despite the number of times Will has pushed it behind his ear. 

These days are especially difficult. For the past few months, they have had only each other to rely on. So when Will goes to work, it means Hannibal is left alone, to his own devices. He gets lonely, Will knows that. Will supposes that’s the sole reason he collected, and still collects, strays. They kept him company when he was lonely, and now they can keep Hannibal company too. And despite Hannibal’s protests and seemingly utter displeasure towards their dogs, Will knows that Hannibal is slowly warming up to their company. 

“You’re staring.” Hannibal murmurs, and Will can hear the frown in his voice as his eyes crack open.

“This is the only chance I’ll get to stare.” Huffs Will. “Mornin’.” Hannibal shivers at the slight southern drawl of Will’s voice. 

“I see the sun is up early to take you away from me.” Hannibal sighs, turning his head to glance at the ray of sunlight breaking through the crack in the curtains. 

“Unfortunately she is.” Will muses tenderly as he pulls Hannibal closer. “I have to get out of bed soon.” Hannibal nods in agreement. 

“The boatyard is calling for you.” He says. “It cannot be helped.” Will gives him a pitiful smile and kisses his forehead, then kisses away his frown. 

“Well… if you get lonely… you can phone me whenever.” Will reminds him. “I’ll always pick up.” A warm, fatigued smile splits across Hannibal’s face.

“I appreciate that.” He says, nuzzling his face into Will’s chest. 

“Hannibal…” Will warns, the name on his tongue drawn out thickly, for he knows what happens henceforth. Hannibal plays on temptation, seeing just how long he can keep Will by his side for before he definitely, absolutely has to get out of bed. “You make it difficult to get out of bed, you know.” 

“That is not my intention.” Hannibal insists. “I simply wish to keep you as close as I can for as long as possible.” 

“Yes, and  _ that  _ makes it difficult for me to get out of bed.” Will protests with a breath of laughter. 

“That sounds much more like your problem than it does mine.” Hannibal muters petulantly as his eyes close again. Will cannot really argue with that. He’s right, after all. He can get out of bed whenever he wants to-- or  _ needs  _ to, but Will must admit, he’s reluctant to leave Hannibal alone, which in turn, affects his ability to get out of bed. 

Will manages to squeeze in an extra five minutes of lie-in before he has to manoeuvre himself out from under his husband. 

“Hannibal…” Will groans. Hannibal grumbles a complaint, but he knows Will has to leave, so he rolls onto his side to let Will get out of bed. 

Hannibal was once a morning person. But when he discovered lie-ins with Will, that personality trait quickly went out of the window. Will’s obligations require him to be a morning person, much to his own dismay, because if they didn’t, he too, would be curled under the sheets with his husband, their legs tangled together and arms wrapped around his waist. But alas, duty calls. 

Will sits up, hissing as the scars on his body from their fall sing with a dull ache, a painful reminder of the fate they sealed for themselves. He lets himself chance one more loving glance at Hannibal, and he leans down to press another chaste kiss to his face before he gets out of bed. 

The sun is barely coming up. It’s just gone seven o’clock, and already, as soon as Will stands up, he has to resist the urge to crawl back under the covers. He resists, however. They need money. And yes, they aren’t short on money, but they are fugitives, and that means money does not come easily. 

The first thing he does is get himself ready, then feed their dogs… and… wolf… While Mischa devours her breakfast, Will kneels down to her, carding his fingers through thick fur, feeling the softness between his fingers. “You’ll keep him company for me, won’t you?” He croons with a comforting smile. “Yeah, I know you will.” 

Having Mischa around puts Will at ease when he has to work late. Hannibal has never really been much of a dog person, so Will has never been sure of how effective they were at keeping Hannibal company. But he seems to have taken a liking to Mischa, or at least, he enjoys having her around the most, which Will supposes is a start. 

***

“You look miserable today.” One of Will’s colleagues, Max, says, and he turns around to acknowledge the voice in question. 

“Have a few late work nights.” Will murmurs. “You know how it is.” 

“Let me guess… your husband is home alone?” Will lets out a breathy chuckle, turning the spanner around the nut to loosen it. 

“How’d you guess?” 

“I’ve learnt that there’s only ever one reason for that long face.” He says lightheartedly as a small smile breaks across Will’s face. “So what does your husband do?” Asks Max. 

“He’s a former chef.” Will says. “Retired, and is now a house-husband.” Will muses, pulling his hands from the engine of the boat to wipe them. “And a dog sitter, I guess, even if not by choice.” He smiles. 

“So are we ever going to get to meet your husband, or… are we just going to know him as ‘ _ the husband’?”  _ Max asks as Will picks up his torch. 

“Hmm. Maybe one day.” Will offers. “But for now, he’s just  _ ‘my husband’.”  _

***

Hannibal lies in bed, the room silent, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. He closes his eyes, but no matter how hard he tries, sleep refuses to befall him. He hears a soft rustle, then a scratch, then a soft growl. It must be Mischa. So, with a tired sigh, Hannibal forces himself out of bed, and as soon as he opens the door, he sees Mischa, sitting patiently outside their bedroom door, tail thumping on the hardwood floor. 

With a relenting sigh, Hannibal opened the door wider and silently invited her in. Now, Hannibal was vehemently against dogs on the bed, much to Will’s dismay, and Hannibal is about to scold Mischa for jumping up. But Hannibal supposes it would be nice to have the warmth. After all, Will is not here for him to curl up against. He shuffles up and Mischa makes herself comfortable beside him. She’s warm and soft, but doesn’t quite fill that need for comfort that Will gives him. Reluctantly, he picks up his phone to call Will, who picks up immediately. 

_ “Hey, darlin’.”  _ Will greets, and Hannibal feels a shiver run down his spine at southern drawl in his voice.  _ “Can’t sleep?”  _

“Something akin to sleeplessness, yes.” Hannibal huffs. “I thought I’d take you up on your offer to call.” He hears Will let out a pleased noise, then, there's the creaking of metal, presumably from his tools. 

_ “I’m glad.”  _ Hannibal can hear his smile through the phone as he lets out a soft breath.  _ “Hey… I’m thinking of inviting some work colleagues over for dinner one day… you up for it?”  _

“We’re fugitives hiding under the radar, Will.” Hannibal reminds. “We have to be careful.”

_ “I know. I suppose I just want to feel like I’m living a normal life.”  _ Hannibal smiles at the sentiment, for he knows exactly how Will feels. 

“Sunday would be the most appropriate day for dinner. I can cook whatever fish you catch.” Suggests Hannibal as Mischa, now fast asleep, lets out a soft pur. 

_ “Is that… Mischa?”  _ Hannibal doesn’t respond.  _ “I thought you were in bed.”  _ Hannibal can hear the teasing lilt in Will’s voice as Will imagines Hannibal, curled up to Mischa’s side.  _ “I wish I could see this.”  _ He laughs softly. _ “My husband, cuddled up in bed with our dog, despite being strongly against pets on the bed.”  _ Muses Will.  _ “You must really miss me.”  _

“That I do.” Hannibal sighs. “Do you know when you’ll be home?” 

_ “We have a couple more boats. All small jobs, though. Maybe… three hours? I’ll be home soon.” _ There’s a pause, then Will speaks again.  _ “How have the dogs been?”  _

“I have fed them dinner, taken them out, and now they are asleep in the front room.” 

_ “Save for Mischa, who’s asleep next to you.”  _ Teases Will. “ _ Really though, I didn’t expect the wolf I picked up off the side of the road to be the one you grew the most attached to.”  _

“She makes for an effective guard dog.” Hannibal scowls, to which Will sorts out loud. 

_ “As if you need protecting.”  _ Hannibal hums in response as he cards his fingers through Mischa’s thick fur. It’s getting unbearably warm, having a  _ literal  _ wolf on the bed beside him, but Hannibal craves the warmth at this point, and makes no move to kick her off.  _ “We had a yacht come in today… called Boaty McBoatface.”  _ Will snorts out a laugh, and the corners of Hannibal’s lips turn up into an amused smile.  _ “It took me ages to stop laughing before I could work on it.”  _ Hannibal closes his eyes, content to just listen to Will talking about his day.

_ “The owner said it was a dare and the name stuck. Apparently, he’d played rock paper scissors over the name with a friend.”  _ The sound of Will’s voice ringing through his ears is nothing short of soothing. There’s something so oddly calming and smooth about his voice, the way his southern accent clings to his words, clings to his name--  _ “Hannibal? Still there?” -- _ like that. 

“Mmh.” Hannibal hums. “Keep talking.” 

***

Will talks and talks until he hears Hannibal and Mischa's soft snores. Once they’re finally asleep, he smiles to himself, bids a quiet  _ ‘good night, darlin’,’  _ and then cuts the call. He checks the time, and it’s already close to ten. There’s still two more boats lined up that need minor repairs, so he quickly finishes up on the boat in front of him so he can get a move on. 

“Hunter.” Will turns around at the calling of his assumed identity. “You good to finish these last two before you leave? They’re only quick, but we’re closing soon. Could do with some help.” 

“Ah, yeah, I was going to do them now. The quicker I do them the qui--”

“I know, I know,” muses Max, “the quicker you can go home to your  _ husband.  _ I won’t keep you too long.” Will smiles, and quickly makes a start on the second to last boat. “So about dinner. What did your husband say? I’m eager to see the chef himself.” 

“He said Sunday, but he was also half asleep, so I’ll have to check on that.” Will chides as he pops open the hood of the boat. 

***

By the time Will leaves the boat yard, it’s already close to eleven-- he’s been working for almost fifteen hours. At least he doesn’t have to work this hard every day. When he makes it home, the whole cabin is silent, apart from the soft snores coming from their dogs. Mischa, of course, is nowhere to be seen, but Will knows exactly where she is. 

He pushes open the bedroom door to see Hannibal fast asleep, curled up beside Mischa. Will can’t help but crinkle his nose, jealous at the fact that Mischa has plonked herself right in the middle of the bed, meaning  _ Will  _ isn’t the one Hannibal is going to be holding tonight. He can forgive it, however, for the sweet sight of his husband, normally so cold towards pets, and their canine is more than enough to make up for it. 

———————————————————————

This goes on for the next two days or so. Will wakes up, leaves for work, and Hannibal calls when he can't fall asleep. And each night, Will comes home to find Mischa in his place. 

And finally, when his few days off come around, Will gladly lies in, curled up in Hannibal’s arms, his head tucked under his chin as he nuzzles the soft hair on his chest. “Mornin’,” Will sighs contentedly as he pulls back just enough to catch Hannibal’s lips in a kiss.

“Does it feel good to lie in?” Hannibal asks as Will tiredly nods. 

“I missed you, darlin’.” Will lets out a soft breath as his eyes close again. “I see Mischa was a good substitute for me?” A quiet chortle rumbles in Hannibal’s chest as he nods. 

“She did make for great company, as I expected.” Hannibal confirms. “But she was not quite enough to replace you, so you needn’t be jealous.” 

“I'm not jealous.” Insists Will. “I’m just glad you’ve got someone to keep you company when I’m working.” 

They stay cuddled up for a little while longer before the heat becomes almost unbearable. Hannibal is sandwiched between Mischa and Will, and on one side there’s thick fur, and on the other, there’s hot, sweaty, sticky skin. He makes a move to get up, but Will grumbles tiredly, trying to tug him back into bed. “Stay a bit longer.” Will murmurs. “We’ve barely seen each other in days.” 

“Am I allowed to at least use the bathroom?” Hannibal asks. Will grumbles again, but nods, releasing him. 

“Hurry back.” As soon as Hannibal gets off the bed, it’s an instant relief when he opens the bathroom door and the cool breeze brushes his sweaty skin. 

As soon as Will hears the toilet flush moments later, he’s instantly opening his arms to welcome Hannibal back into the bed. 

“We need to get out of bed soon.” Hannibal says. “Your colleagues will be coming later, and you have no fish for me to prepare.” Hannibal chuckles lightheartedly, and though the humidity between them is borderline disgusting, Hannibal shoves the thought to the back of his head in favour of wrapping his arms around Will’s body. 

“It’s still early.” Will sighs tiredly, turning onto his side to pull Hannibal back into his arms. “I can still spend another hour or two in bed.” 

***

Later that day, Will leaves Hannibal to his own devices while he goes out fishing. Normally, Hannibal accompanies him, but today, they have guests coming over, so Hannibal stays home to slice vegetables and prepare their other courses. Mischa turns out to be very good company. She sits patiently on the kitchen floor beside Hannibal, and in return, Hannibal feeds her the scraps— pieces of pepper and carrot, halves of strawberries and slices of peach, and she gobbles up each piece gratefully. 

Hannibal finds himself becoming more and more fond of their dogs as a whole too. Likely because they’re a part of Will. They’re obedient and quiet, they're not disruptive when he’s busy… Hannibal supposes they aren’t too bad after all - they feel like a part of Will is still at home when he’s out, so Hannibal has learned to love them too. 

He doesn’t hear Will come home at first, he’s too busy cutting vegetables and simmering soup to hear the door. But he does feel strong arms wrap around his waist and soft lips kiss his neck that tell him his lover is home. 

“Managed to catch river salmon.” Murmurs Will into Hannibal’s neck as he inhales the scent of his fancy shower gel. “It’s quite big too, perhaps it will serve us a few meals?” Hannibal’s head turns just enough to find Will’s lips, careful not to slice the carrots wonkily as he lets himself get distracted by Will’s taunting lips for just a second. 

“I’ll get to work on it as soon as I am done here.” Hannibal says. 

“Have the dogs been good?” Hannibal nods. 

“Very good.” He smiles. “They are yet to be walked, I’ve been otherwise occupied.” Will pulls away from Hannibal’s waist and nods, pressing another kiss to his cheek. 

“It’s okay,” Will insists, “we can take them tomorrow.”

***

Their guesses arrive three hours later, at seven o’clock on the dot. 

“So this is the husband we hear so much about.” Hannibal chances a fond, questioning glance at Will as he puts down the plates. 

_ “The husband?”  _ Hannibal queries as he watches the delighted smile that spreads across Will’s face. 

“Hunter talks a lot about you.” Hannibal can’t help but smirk smugly as he glances at Will again. “But you’ve never had a name, just  _ ‘my husband’.”  _ Hannibal chuckles and takes his seat at the head of the table. Then, he turns to Will. 

“So you’re the  _ ‘my husband’  _ type of person?” He muses as he picks up his cutlery. 

“Evidently, I am.” Will sheepishly smiles, cutting into his salmon. “Didn’t even realise it.” 

Mischa, as per usual, sits beside Hannibal’s feet, waiting patiently for the scraps she knows Hannibal cannot resist giving her. Hannibal rarely contributes to the conversation at the table, preferring to watch his husband’s face break out in smiles and laughter. It seems as though Will feels like his life finally has a sense of normalcy. 

“So how did you meet?” They have a story for this. One that they concocted for a moment like this, a moment where they feel inclined to share snippets of their lives. This sort of moment was bound to come around— they'd found peace in Ushuaia, and peace means normalcy. Or at least, Hannibal hopes it does. 

“One of my dogs accidentally got off their leash one day, crashed into a tall, handsome man.” Will says with a flirty smirk in his husband’s direction. “My dog was instantly attracted to him, and so was I.” Will elaborates, poking at another piece of fish. “I apologised profusely for her behaviour and… the rest? Well… here we are.” Hannibal wishes that’s how they met. Instead of the bloody, messy, disastrous way they really did meet instead. Will can see it in his eyes— Hannibal is like an open book. Will can see the glimmer of regret, the glimmer of sadness that shines behind Hannibal’s eyes whenever he thinks of their bitter past. 

And it’s that moment when Will conjures you the perfect date idea. 

———————————————————————

_ ‘Meet me on that street where we have coffee at 1❣’  _ is the text Will leaves for Hannibal on the morning of their anniversary. 

Hannibal wakes up to an empty bed. Mischa is not curled up beside him, and neither is Will. At first, Hannibal’s body floods with dread. His hand pats the other side of the bed and it’s cold. Will has been gone for  _ hours.  _ A sick, sick feeling fills the pit of Hannibal’s stomach, and it feels as though his worst nightmares have materialised. And if they had, it would be  _ soul-crushing.  _ It would hurt more than the time Hannibal fled to Florence--  _ without Will--  _ so many years ago and Hannibal had once thought that pain couldn’t possibly get any worse. 

But it  _ can.  _ Because if it turns out that Will really has left  _ on their anniversary,  _ Hannibal isn’t sure if he could survive that. 

He sucks in a deep, shaky breath. Hannibal tries not to worry himself sick when he thinks about their empty home. He tries not to overthink, tries not to give himself a heart attack, and tries to come to a reasonable conclusion other than  _ Will has run away on their anniversary.  _

So Hannibal checks his phone, and when he sees Will’s message, a wave of relief comes crashing over him— Will  _ hasn’t  _ left, and he has no intentions of doing so. The thundering of Hannibal’s heart immediately slows upon reading Will’s text, and he reads it over and over and over before kicking himself for having so little faith in Will’s intentions, even now, three years later, together in Ushuaia. Even now, when Will makes it so abundantly clear about how he feels for Hannibal every night. Hannibal can’t help the sudden shame that washes over him at his subconscious hesitance to trust Will’s intentions.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though. All Hannibal wants is to savour every moment they get together-- they could still be apprehended, despite having found a normal life here. They could be apprehended next year, or next month, or even next week. They don’t know how much time they have so therefore, they have to make the most of it all. Thus, per Will’s request, Hannibal makes sure he is out of bed and ready to meet Will as soon as possible.

***

Will is waiting for Hannibal, right in the middle of that street, with his back leaned against a lamppost, surrounded by their dogs. Mischa, Buster, Winston, Zoe, Ellie, Heidee, Max, and Jack. Even though Hannibal has lived with their dogs for almost three years, he still cannot believe they own seven dogs and a wolf.  _ A wolf,  _ who might just be Hannibal’s favourite. 

As soon as Will’s gaze catches his, Hannibal watches as Will releases Mischa from her leash, and she runs over to her owner, jumping up and pawing at his legs. 

“Mischa.” Hannibal smiles sweetly as Will comes over with the rest of their dogs. 

“Sorry about her.” Will says with a teasing smile as he approaches Hannibal. Will bends down to card his hands through Mischa’s fur, cooing and fawning over her before he stands up again. “Mischa seems to like you a lot, though. She has a knack of running off.” Hannibal, too, cannot help the smug smile on his face. 

“Almost as if…  _ by design?”  _ Will can’t keep his fake first meeting character any longer. He snorts, sputtering a laugh as Hannibal’s hands wrap around his waist and pull him in for a sweet, satisfying kiss. Their noses knock and their foreheads bump, Will’s hands gripping their dogs tightly as he pulls away, smiling against Hanibal’s lips. And it’s here where Hannibal is so sure Will truly adores him, when he laughs against his lips and mumbles a soft… 

“I fucking hate you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter please leave me a comment, it would mean the world to me 😩💖
> 
> Don't forget to check out my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/CarnivalMirai) where I shitpost and sometimes promote my writing lol


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